But What KIND of Evacuation?

It’s true what they tell you – when an alarm goes off, your first natural reaction is to say, “Huh. What’s that noise?” Then the sequence goes like this:

1. That's an alarm.
2. Damn, that's the fire alarm.
3. Should I evacuate? (The building, not other evacuations; those come upon seeing flame in close proximity).
4. Well, I hear noises in the other cubicles. Perhaps they're evacuating. One way or the other.
5. What should I bring? Oh yeah, bag, keys, COAT. It's freaking only ten degrees above zero outside, and it's windy. TAKE THE COAT.
6. What about the binder that holds the novel I'm writing? That seems superfluous.
7. Yeah, leave it. We'll be back inside in no time.
8. Oh yeah. Evacuate.

That was the scenario today at work, starting at about a quarter after two.

Here is where I say I am not writing any of this as an official spokesperson for Fluor Idaho LLC, the company I work for. Nor do I present myself as an Expert in These Matters. I’m just an office schlub recounting his day at work, nothing more. Any journalist looking for real, actual information should contact Fluor Idaho, not me. I am a moron.

It kinda felt like this – I’m Homer in this situation – but a lot more organized because I will give them credit, the emergency response folks at Fluor Idaho (I’m one of them, happily not on duty today) react professionally and get the job done as it should.

For us, the worst part was standing out in the cold until they cleared us all to go into a nearby building to shelter. The worst thing that happened to me therein is that the battery died on my Kindle.

They eventually cleared nonessential workers to go home if they wished. I was lucky enough that at least one route back to my old stomping grounds at RWMC was clear, so I walked through the cold and borrowed a cubicle so I can catch the bus at the normal time. I could have gone home, but it would have been a logistical headache to find someone who could give me a ride, and then figure out how to get to my truck. It was easier just to stay here and go home the normal way.

Part of me – a very small part of me – wishes I’d been on ERO duty today, just to be part of the action. But as they won’t be going home at 5 pm, I’m not sure I’d like to be there. But I’d do it if it were my turn.

I feel bad for my boss, who left her house keys in the building we had to evacuate, and there won’t be a chance she can get back in there to get them. I hope she gets things worked out.